Mistake

by Kristine Williams

  "Hey, Simon." Jim turned his head back to the middle of the pillow, looking up at Simon. "What's happening with Mills?" Simon glanced at Blair, who looked down, then around the room for a moment. Jim noticed the look on Blair's face just as the Captain started to explain.

  "Mills is dead. Sandburg shot him, with your gun. Just in time, from what little I saw," Simon replied.

  Jim turned back to face Blair, but his friend wouldn't look at him.

  "I came up to see what you two had found out. Heard the shots just as I was standing outside the door," Simon continued. "They found the money, as well as a plane ticket, and a gun matching the one used to kill Edwards and Patterson in Mills' car parked outside your loft. It's pretty obvious he was the third man."

  Jim was still watching Blair. His partner had killed a man. Saving Jim's life, and his own as well, but for the first time, he had fired a gun at someone, with full intent. Still, Blair's eyes were everywhere but meeting his.

  "How you doin', Jim? The doctor said you lost a lot of blood. We had half the department here donating."

  Jim looked back at Simon. "I'm okay, Simon. Just don't tell me Sandburg here donated too. I don't need to get a sudden craving for emu."

  "Funny. That's funny, Jim," Blair replied over Simon's laughter. "Well you can relax. They wouldn't let me donate anything."

  "Nope. In fact, they've been telling him to go home since last night. So have I."

  Jim saw the look Blair shot Simon, but his Captain didn't seem to. He understood why Blair was there, and why he felt he had to stay. He understood, even if Simon didn't. "Listen, both of you, I'm fine." He'd certainly been hurt worse than this before. "How about you both go home, and let me get some sleep?"

  Before Blair could protest, a doctor entered the room and insisted Blair and Simon both leave so he could examine his patient. Jim watched as Blair stood with some effort, then followed Simon out and into the hall, still holding one arm around his injured side. His partner was still badly hurt himself, and should be home resting.

  Jim endured the exam, and was grateful when the doctor removed the IV, and EKG leads, turning off that incessant beeping behind him. He learned that the bullet came out easily enough, having missed the shoulder itself. Blood loss had been a problem, as was keeping him anesthetized, for some inexplicable reason. But with time, and rest, a full recovery was expected. And, barring any complications, he could go home the next afternoon. He didn't argue when the doctor gave him a few shots for the pain. Jim knew they wouldn't last, but he was getting better at turning down the dial, as Blair had taught, so the pain was manageable. The doctor finished his exam, then gave Jim the usual talk about rest and not doing to much for at least a week. He listened, only paying enough attention to satisfy the doctor.

  He hadn't realized Blair had killed Agent Mills. Thinking back, he did recall the larger man falling, right about the time Simon appeared, but Blair having shot him wasn't something he remembered. This would make things even more complicated. Now that he had to get Blair to understand that Jim did want him back--did need him back--was he going to want to come? The last time Blair had fired a gun was in the Precinct garage. He'd been hallucinating then, and had no idea what he was doing. But, he hadn't shot anyone then, either. This time, for the first time, Blair had aimed a gun, and pulled the trigger, with the full intention of stopping someone. Killing a man wasn't an easy thing to deal with even for a cop. Jim's first had been in the service, and he could still recall the incident with full clarity. But it was part of the job. Being a cop, it was part of the job as well. Blair couldn't be expected to react in the way a cop would after his first time. He'd need help.

  The doctor finished his talk and walked back to the door. Jim quickly reviewed what he had barely been listening to, and realized it was the usual after-gunshot advice. Blair and Simon returned as soon as the doctor cleared the door.

  "What did he say, Jim?" Blair stopped at the side of the bed, but didn't sit down again.

  "I'm fine, Chief. I can come home tomorrow." Just as he realized Blair would have listened in to the doctor's exam if he'd been able to, Jim also realized that Blair, being Blair, would still have ways of finding out, probably even word for word, what the doctor had said.

  Part 14

  * * *

  "I dunno, Jim. With Sandburg still laid up, you might want to hang out here for a week or two, just to get some peace."

  Jim laughed lightly as Blair shot Simon a dirty look. Listen, Chief, why don't you go home and get some rest yourself? Captain, would you drive him?"

  Blair was shaking his head, but Simon nodded. "Sure thing."

  "Jim, I'm..."

  "Blair, I'm fine. Go home, get some sleep." It was one thing for Jim to stay at the hospital for 3 days running, but he hadn't had broken ribs at the time. "I'll be home tomorrow." Blair nodded slowly, meeting Jim's eyes for only a moment. There was something other than concern there. Something deeper. He had just killed a man, and he wasn't well himself. Maybe Jim shouldn't push the issue? It might be better not to let Blair be alone. He couldn't ask Simon to stay with his partner while Blair was standing right there. Maybe...

  "Come on, Sandburg. I'll drive you. Jim, I'll be over tomorrow to drive you home." The Captain turned to Jim and gave a quick nod of understanding. "Nothing to worry about."

  "Thanks, Simon." He watched Blair look from Simon to him, then he nodded. "Get some rest, buddy. I'll see you tomorrow." Trust the Captain to understand. And Jim did trust him. With his own life, and Blair's current mental state.

  Blair nodded once. "Yeah, take it easy, okay, Jim?"

  Simon put a hand on Blair's back for just a moment, ushering him out of the room. Jim watched them go, then settled in against the pillows and closed his eyes. The EKG monitor was silent, the IV drip gone. Down the hallway he could hear nurses talking quietly, the elevator doors opening and closing. There were other sounds that he began to block out one by one, until there was nothing left but the sound of his own breathing. That, and one other sound he could now hear more clearly.

  Jim fell asleep to the sound of gentle purring.

  * * *

  Blair unlocked the door, and Simon followed him inside. "Thanks for the ride, Captain." He wondered if Simon was going to inspect the loft as well, until his eyes locked onto the living room. The coffee table was still on its side, couch cushions were on the floor, some of them stained in blood. Jim's blood. Blair forced his eyes away from the blood stains, but they found the tape outline of Agent Mills.

  "Damn. I told forensics to get this cleaned up, but they had another case to get to." Simon moved around Blair and stepped up to the overturned table. "I know what a neat freak Ellison is. Can't let him come home to this." Simon reached down and righted the table.

  "I can do that," Blair protested, but he still hadn't come any closer. He felt frozen in place, staring at the outlined evidence of what he had done.

  "Sandburg, I've been a bachelor long enough to know my way around a vacuum. Where does Ellison keep it?" Simon had replaced the table's contents and was pulling up the tape.

  Blair stood there, staring at the mess. He felt cold, and he had to shake himself alert to reply. "Um, over there." He nodded with his chin towards the closet under the stairs. "I can do that." He moved finally, walking as wide a circle around the living room as he could.

  "Just let me. Why don't you go lie down, huh? I can handle this. I'll just clean this up, then go home and get some sleep myself." Simon pushed Blair's hands away as he reached for the closet door.

  "I need to clean the couch, Simon." Blair turned towards the kitchen then stopped. His hands were shaking, and the cold was spreading deeper. Why was he so cold? There was blood on the couch he had to clean up. Simon should go, let him clean it up.

  "Sandburg!"

  Blair's heart was racing, his hands wouldn't stop shaking, he was so cold!

  "Sandburg, come over here."

  Blair didn't feel Simon's hands on his arms, or
even realize he was being ushered to the kitchen table and forced to sit down. It wasn't until Simon sat down beside him, and blocked his view of the living room, that he realized where he was and what was happening.

  "Sandburg, look at me!" Simon reached out and touched Blair's chin until he met the larger man's eyes. "You're in shock, Blair. You've been hurt, Jim's been hurt, and there's a man dead."

  That did it. "I killed him." Blair was shaking now with something other than cold. He looked at Simon, seeing him then for the first time. "I killed him!" Oh my God! Saving Jim was one thing...but now Blair knew--he'd killed a man!

  "Blair, listen to me. This is natural. You killed a man in self-defense, and you saved Jim. Now that you know Jim is going to be all right, it's coming down on you." Simon glanced around the room. "Do you have pills or something you should be taking? I know the doctor mentioned them."

  Blair nodded, but couldn't think. He didn't want pills, he didn't want any of this! Simon stood and went to the bathroom, and Blair's eyes automatically found the couch again.

  "Here, Sandburg, take these and get some sleep." Simon returned, standing in front of Blair, once again blocking his view. He was holding out a glass of water and two small white pills.

  Blair accepted them and swallowed the pills without thinking. His mind was numb, and he was so cold!

  "Now, get some sleep. I'll clean up out here and sleep on the couch."

  Blair looked up as the Captain's words slowly sank in. "You don't have to. I'll be fine."

  "Sandburg, I've been a Captain for several years now. I see this more times than I'd like. A young cop kills a man for the first time, and even if it's a justified killing, it's not an easy thing to deal with. But you deal with it. We've got people at the Station who can help you."

  "I'm not a cop." Jim's own words reverberated in Blair's tired mind. God, what would Naomi think? He'd taken another man's life. Was saving Jim enough to justify that? It had to be!

  "You might as well be." Simon stood and walked to the kitchen. "I'm gonna leave this up to you and Ellison." He opened some cupboards and began to extract cleaning supplies. "He's got more experience than most in dealing with these things. But if he wants you to talk to the department shrink, don't argue." He found a bucket and began to fill it with cold water.

  He didn't want to talk to a shrink. He didn't want to talk to Simon. He didn't even want to talk to Jim about it. He'd have to admit that Jim had been right all this time, and Blair had no business being a part of his police life. And right now, that argument was sounding more and more valid.

  "Sandburg, listen to me." Simon set his bucket of soapy water and scrub brush on the table and looked down at Blair. "I'm going to explain this to you, just like I have to countless others, okay?"

  Blair looked up and nodded, not really wanting to hear, but too fatigued to stop the Captain.

  "What you did was justified. You didn't murder anyone, you didn't set out to kill anyone. If given the choice, I believe you would have done anything other than pull that trigger. But you weren't given the choice. I may have come in just after it all happened, but believe me, I can put two and two together pretty quick. I'm not that slow, you know."

  Simon paused and Blair felt a yawn coming on that he had to suppress. It must be the drugs. The Captain had given him two, and he'd taken them without thinking. Now they were going to put him to sleep and this issue wouldn't be resolved.

  "But I can tell you this...I'd rather have one dead murdering FBI agent, and a mountain of paperwork, than a dead detective and a suspect under arrest."

  Blair nodded slowly. "Yeah, but killing him kinda puts me on their level, huh?"

  "No. Absolutely not." Simon pushed the bucket aside and sat down. "Blair, what separates you from them, all of us from them, is that you did something out of fear for another man's life, not hatred of another man."

  Blair looked at the Captain then, trying to determine if he was just being nice to someone he didn't want to see freak out in front of him, or telling the truth based on experience. He desperately wanted to believe the latter.

  "You killed to save a life, a life other than your own, not to take a life. As hard as it is to believe, Mills set out to murder several people, including a young girl, even if he didn't beat them to death with his own hands. His killing was planned, cold-blooded, and intentional. What you did was spontaneous, done in fear of your life and Jim's, and desperate."

  Simon paused and Blair had to suppress another yawn. This was not the time to look bored in front of the Captain! "Yeah, I guess."

  "Well, I don't guess, I know. If I thought otherwise, I'd have you arrested and we wouldn't be having this conversation." Simon stood again and picked up the bucket. "Now, you need to get some sleep. And I need to get this place cleaned up before Ellison sees what a mess you made."

  Blair nodded, seeing the smile on the Captain's face after the last remark. He really should clean it up. He hated thinking Simon felt he needed to be taken care of, just because Jim wasn't there. But he was too tired! Some of the cold had dissipated, and the drugs were taking a strong hold. Wearily he stood, avoiding eye contact with the living room, and walked into his room. Taking off his jeans took nearly all the energy he had left, so he kept the sweatshirt on and eased himself down onto the bed, pulling as many blankets over him as he could. The sound of Simon cleaning the living room gave him something to focus on as the last of the chill was worked out by the blankets. Blair was afraid to close his eyes, afraid he'd see that gun going off over and over again. Afraid he'd see Jim's blood as it came out around his fingers. After another wave of drug induced dizziness hit, the next thing Blair saw was his alarm clock.

  * * *

  "Thank you." Jim smiled back at the nurse who had helped him with his shirt. Before he could add anything more, Simon came into the room.

  "Jim, you all set?"

  "You take it easy now, Mr. Ellison. We were glad to see you back, but we prefer better circumstances." The nurse smiled at Jim, then glanced at Simon before leaving.

  "Your timing is perfect, as always, sir," Jim teased, easing his arm into a more comfortable position in the sling. The shoulder was throbbing, but it was controllable if he stayed still.

  "I'm sure you've been doing just fine," Simon replied. "Are you ready to hit the road?"

  "Yeah." Jim had just begun to ease himself off the bed when an orderly came in, pushing a wheelchair. Jim opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. "Where's Sandburg?"

  "Still asleep when I left." Simon took the handles of the chair from the orderly and they started towards the elevators.

  "When you left? Is he all right?" Jim had expected Blair to come with the Captain to pick him up, and had even expected him to show up bright and early that morning.

  "I think it hit him last night, what happened." Simon pressed the elevator button and they waited for the car. "He had an almost text-book reaction to having killed Mills."

  Jim was suddenly concerned. He'd known Blair was upset, and didn't even realize yet what he had done, but he'd wanted to be there when reality struck, so he could help his partner get through it. "I should have let him stay here last night."

  "No, Jim. You needed rest and so did he." The elevator doors opened and Simon pushed Jim's chair inside. "I got him to take his pills, like the doctor had been telling him to since we brought you in, and talked him down from the worst of it. He fell asleep soon after that and I just left him that way. I left him a note, told him I'd be bringing you back. Don't worry, Jim, that was just 20 minutes ago. He's probably still sound asleep."

  Jim did worry, but said nothing. This wasn't an easy thing for many people to handle, let alone someone in Blair's position. He wasn't a trained police officer, schooled in what to anticipate or expect if and when he ever fired his weapon. They were in the parking lot now, and Simon held the passenger door open while Jim eased himself out of the wheelchair and into the car. He was weak, and a little shaky, and idly wonder
ed how he and Blair were going to manage if neither one of them could get around well. Simon returned the wheelchair, then got into the car and started it up.

  "How'd he take it?" Jim could picture Blair not wanting to open up in front of the Captain if it was something really serious.

  "He'll be all right, Jim. That kid's got a good head on his shoulders. Just don't tell him I said that."

  Jim laughed. "I won't, sir. But you're right. I'd just hate to see things like this change him." This was something Jim worried about often. Blair had a wonderful, fresh way of looking at things. Sometimes he saw the world the way he wanted to see it, and it hurt just a little every time Jim saw Blair struggle to deal with the things Jim had learned to live with years ago. Blair was quick. Quick to learn, quick to grasp, and better at thinking on his feet than most men Jim knew. With the right help, he'd get through this as well. He knew Simon must have been helpful. After all, he'd been a cop for years, and a Captain since Jim had known him. If anyone knew how to coach someone through his first time, Simon would. But it was still Blair's first time. A first that never should have happened to an anthropologist, studying Sentinels.

  "Jim, you didn't tell Sandburg about you not wanting him to work with you again, did you?"

  Oh God, that was another issue they had to deal with. "Yes, I did," Jim admitted. "But I was wrong. I can see that, I just hope he can." He would. He had to. Blair was usually understanding about things like this, and he definitely was one to pretend something had never happened. That wasn't what Jim wanted, though. He didn't want to pretend it had never happened, he wanted Blair to understand why it had happened. But would he understand the dreams? Jim's Spirit Guide had been something Blair understood even more than Jim did.

  "He'll understand, Jim. As long as you can get him past this, I can't see him sitting still while you come back to work. That kid worships you, you know."